


A Final Reprise

by Eternal_screaming_void



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Everyman HYBRID, Marble Hornets, Tribe Twelve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_screaming_void/pseuds/Eternal_screaming_void
Summary: Holy shit I can’t believe I’m publishing this. It’s 2020, cringe culture is dead.———————Brian Thomas is a peculiar young man. And his life has been made even more peculiar when he finds himself in a home with other killers.Each of them there for various reasons, the Administrator is collecting pawns for something.After a cryptic warning from HABIT, Brian has to decide who’s side he’s on. The Administrator’s? Or his own?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

The parking lot was dark, rain dribbling down the worn out gutters of the corner store. A man steps out of the store, brushing rain off his forehead, some of it slipping down past the lip of his hood. He opens the door of the old pickup truck, setting the bag of snacks down on the arm rest, and climbing inside. The girl in the passenger seat glances up, and picks up the bag, peeking inside with a little grin. “What did you get?” 

The truck starts up with a groan, and Brian brushes his hood off his face. “Enough snacks to keep you little gremlins entertained, hopefully.” The girl nods, giggling, and holding the bag gently in her lap as the truck pulls onto the highway. 

It was the perfect night for something to go bad. But things rarely do for those already bad at heart.

The lights were still on in the mansion, a few shadows moving fruitlessly against the ever encroaching night. The woods behind the mansion were well tended to, as were most of the grounds. It took a group effort, but it was worth it, really. It’s much harder for them to get away this way. That is, if they ever make it here to begin with; some of them were dead before they hit the driveway.

Brian puts the truck in park, and scoops the bag up out of the girl’s lap, hopping out of the truck with a grunt, and opens the passenger door, holding out a hand to help her out. She smiles, bright green eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, and hops out of the truck, holding his gloved hand tight. It had been a week since she’d first come here, though she of course wasn’t the first. She couldn’t have been older than six, but she had allegedly killed her parents, with good cause, but it was still a problem. Of course, not one that the residents minded. There was plenty of room for everyone. “Hey, Sal, can you do me a favor and go tell Jack I’ll be in in a sec.” She nods enthusiastically, taking the bag of snacks and running up and inside the house. Brian takes a moment to look up at the sky, and take a breath. He couldn’t really remember how he’d ended up here, only that he’d woken up in the woods with blood all over him; and someone watching him from close by. Brian never did learn his name; everyone only ever called him the Administrator. Or on the rare occasion, the Operator. Or on a rarer occasion, the Stick-in-the-Mud. HABIT always was a weird one.

“Work with me, and I’ll keep you safe.” Had been the proposition, not that Brian had much of a choice, considering his situation, but he found he rarely regretted his choice.

Of course, working for him wasn’t easy, but it certainly had its perks; and over time, more had showed up, seeking a place to stay safe. He was a reasonable man, all things considered; all He ever asked was for his share in whatever was brought back.

Brian moves to the back of the truck, pulling the latch, and climbing up into the bed. He bends down, putting the still bloody body over one shoulder, and clambering down again, starting the hike back up to the mansion. With some luck, this would be enough to keep Jack happy for the time being; the victim had two working kidneys after all. It was kind of hard to keep up with two cannibals in the group, but thankfully one of them only wanted a few specific pieces of the anatomy.

He walks inside, pausing just long enough to wipe his feet on the rug at the door before going on, closing the door behind him, and making a line for the kitchen. He could see Sal sitting on the couch, in front of the kitchen, with a boy maybe about her age, maybe a little younger. The boy in question was playing a video 

game on an old tv, Sally watching interestedly and sharing her bag of snacks. It was kind of cute, actually, a slight bit of normality in a chaotic house.

The body thunks heavily onto the kitchen table, and Brian wipes his black gloves on his hoodie, some of the blood smearing off of them. “Disgusting.” He sighs, and turns, glancing around for any sign of Jack, well, specifically one Jack. The unfortunate thing here is there are two, and while it was easy to differentiate between their appearances, it was difficult through name. “Eyeless” Jack and “Laughing” Jack, were their relative titles, but it always felt so weird calling them that when their names are, well, just Jack. It was Sally who had suggested a nickname for the two of them, to make things easier. Sure, it was a little silly, but it definitely helped. EJ and LJ, a lot shorter and it definitely saved on confusion. “Hey EJ, pizza’s here!” It was a bit of a joke to call their victims different food items; it helped to alleviate some of the otherwise frightening tension. “Come on, I gotta get this out there to Him before nightfall.”

A gangly man with a bright blue mask, and black empty eyes comes skidding into the hall from the floor above, jumping the last few steps. “Pizza? Oooo, goodie!” 

Brian stifles a bit of a laugh, before stepping out of the kitchen, letting Jack get to his meal. 

He stops in the hallway between the upstairs and the living room, glancing out the back door towards the woods. He hoped EJ finished soon. He hated going in there alone at night.

In a place far from us, a house exists in the woods, a loose family of murderers all under one unifying force, for better or for worse. In another plane of existence, The Administrator plots his next movement in a never ending game of chess, making up for the lost bishop and knight with a multitude of pawns. It was dirty work, but it was all part of the plan. For now, he awaits his next meal, in the depths of the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

Brian trudges up the slope, back to the woods, heading back towards the house, trying to wipe blood from his brown hoodie, but only smearing it further in. He frowns, and huffs, but keeps walking. It was quiet out here. It always was. Almost peaceful, really, if he didn’t know what was in those woods. It wasn’t just the Administrator that made his home there, the Rake, a Goatman, a handful of others shared the territory. But it wasn’t for him to judge, or to worry about.

Perhaps it was because of how quiet it was, or that he was wrapped up in his own thoughts that he reacted so badly when a voice reached him. “So, still doing Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud’s dirty work huh?” Brian jumps as HABIT all but appears out of thin air, leaning against a tree, and takes a reactionary swing at him with his fist.

“Feisty huh?” HABIT sneers, glancing at the broken bark hanging from the tree now. “Asshole. Just trying to have a friendly conversation, and this is how you treat me?” 

Brian clutches his bruised fist, letting out a low growl of pain and frustration. “You scared the piss out of me!” He shakes his hands out, wincing as bruised and bent fingers waggle to try and get rid of some of the pain. 

“Oooo, you scared the piss out of me!” HABIT sneers.. “Yeah, that was the point.” He turns away from the man, pulling a machete from it sheath and waving it around nonchalantly. Brain keeps a close eye on the machete, and the being wielding it.

“What do you want, HABIT? You know you’re not supposed to be here.” The body playing host to HABIT glances up and snorts, making a show of shrugging his shoulders.

“What the fuck do I care about that? Now, I’ll admit, I don’t like being this close to a gateway, but since when has that stopped me?” HABIT gives the body’s head a confident waggle, and laughs, a bark like sound deprived of joy. “I wanna fucking talk with you, you got that? No fucking funny business, or I’ll gut you where you stand.” The machete glints in the dull light streaming from the mansion, held out towards Brian in a clear statement. 

“Alright, alright. Fine. We can talk.” Brian holds up his gloved hands, and takes a step back, biting his cheek as he tries to think ahead. What could this psychopath want? 

“Great! I was going to talk anyways. Whether you listen is up to you.” HABIT lowers the machete slightly, instead giving the body’s shoulders a shrug, and letting himself chuckle a little. “I gotta admit, it’s hilarious to me watching all of you scrambling to try and do this entities bidding for your own gain. He has this whole game planned from start to finish; you and your little house of creeps all know that, and it’s in your best interest you stop pretending you don’t. There’s other forces at play in this game of chess now, forces you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.” The machete traces lines through the air as HABIT speaks, lines and shapes seemingly random, and forgotten. “See, we’ve been planning this out for a long time. We want the Stick-In-The-Mud gone, and when he goes, all of you are going with him. Your best bet of survival is letting go and moving on.”

HABIT snorts, shaking his head, shaggy hair falling out from under the black hat he was wearing. “Or, maybe you’d just like to die at this point hm? I mean, Jesus, how many times has he brought you back already huh? Twenty? Thirty times? He doesn’t like for his little proxies to die when he’s spent so much time…” He pauses, searching for the right word. “ _ Cultivating _ their personalities.” 

Brian shudders slightly, as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The more HABIT spoke, the more he felt like something was watching them from the surrounding woods. Something he didn’t want to particularly tangle with just now. “I’m going inside. Get lost, HABIT.” The body of HABIT tilts his head, purple tinted eyes gleaming eerily in the low light. He’s silent for a moment, watching the lone hooded figure making its way back up to the house. 

“Don’t forget, you’re being watched, Brain. From all sides.” HABIT takes a step forward, before stopping again. “And it’d be wise not to forget who your friends and allies are.” 

Brian turns to make a smart retort, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted, but jerks back when he finds the space behind him empty. HABIT was gone, all that was left of his existence, a spot of smooth where the bark had been knocked off the tree earlier. He sighs, and walks into the door of the house, pausing to look back into the woods one last time, and firmly shutting the door.

He’d had enough of smooth talking demons for one day.


End file.
